


The Taking of Draco Malfoy’s Innocence. Well, What Was Left

by Stargazing121



Series: The London Kink [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dominant Draco, F/M, From Sex to Love, Lemon, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Oral Sex, POV Draco Malfoy, Porn, Porn With Plot, S&M, Sex, Sex Toys, Smut, Submissive Hermione, Toys, alternative universe, dramione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 16:07:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14957792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stargazing121/pseuds/Stargazing121
Summary: In London’s most exclusive fetish night club, Draco begins to explore his dominant side in Hermione.She took out long strap with a leather ball attached in the middle.“This is a ball gag,” she said, holding it up for him to see. “If you wish, I will not be able to speak.”Draco stiffened, “No I don’t think that will be necessary.” He didn’t want to inhibit her moaning his name.





	The Taking of Draco Malfoy’s Innocence. Well, What Was Left

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter contains: light bondage, oral sex, slapping and a vibrator.

Draco walked into the club’s darkened entrance. Like many London clubs from the street it looked inconspicuous. It was situated in the basement of a sandy-coloured building, down a normal set of wrought-iron stairs and through a typical set of double doors. But this was no ordinary night club. Draco was entering London’s most exclusive fetish club, _The Dark Horse_.

         Just inside the entrance was a woman holding a clipboard. She gave a vulpine smile on seeing Draco. He kept his face expressionless, the only indication of his mood was in the slight tick of his square jaw.

         “I’m meeting Mr Zabini,” Draco informed the hostess, passing over his business card.

         At the sight of his name the hostess eyes widened, but only for a second. Draco presumed he wasn’t the first rich and powerful person she’d met this evening.

         “Of course, Sir. Mr Zabini mentioned you might join him,” she greeted. “Please, follow me.”

         She led him around a corner and along a red carpeted corridor. As they silently walked together, Draco began to hear the rumble of music. Something monosyllabic with a deep constant baseline. Turning another corner, Draco got his first look at the core of _The Dark Horse_.

         It was a large room, white and blue lights were suspended from the low ceiling and flashed in time to the music. The floor was wooden but, in what seemed to be a random zig-zag, chrome platforms jutted like silver serpent from the dark floor. The platforms were narrow, perhaps room for one or two people to strut. At intervals steel poles thrust up from the platforms, and strings of decorative chains hung from the ceiling. Draco was unsurprised to see that low armchairs clustered round the platforms, like morning worshipers of some Pan-like god.

         As the hostess lead him through the platforms and chairs, Draco took in the different people working these stages. There were muscled young men. Their oiled skin rippled and their masculine faces were shown to their best advantage by tied, or slicked back hair. Some wore simple boxers, but other were wearing tight thongs which cut into their chiselled hips. A few men wore large leather collars, which had handles or metal rings embedded into the leather. Draco imagined these rings allowed chains or leads to be quickly attached, or unattached given a person’s preference. One man with dyed green hair wore a latticed muzzle, his tattooed body wrapped with a leather harness.

         Draco increased his pace.

 

         They seemed to enter a different part of the club, and these platforms were interlinked like the paths in a city park. Leather clad young women strutted over these stages. On the closest platform, a large woman was leaning against a pole, her waist accentuated by a studded corset and her long hair pulled back in a military-like bun.

         “Draco,” a dark-skinned young man called. “Took you long enough to get here.”

         Draco could have sighed in relief as he walked over to Blaise Zabini. “I think we took the scenic route,” Draco dryly commented to Blaise.

         “Thank you for escorting Mr Malfoy _safely_ here.” Blaise handed the hostess a wad of notes. She gave a half bow and walked away.

         “Fuck Blaise, what is this place?” Draco heavily sat in the empty chair next to Blaise.

         Blaise gave Draco a slow smile, like a cat that finally had caught a bird. “This place is my little paradise. They cater for a wide range of tastes.” Blaise lifted a hand at a passing waiter.

         “When I said I needed a night out, this was not what I meant!”

         “Relax. You’ll feel like a new man in a few hours.”

         Draco remembered the punk looking guy in the muzzle. “I don’t think I’ll be feeling _that_ different.”

         “It’ll be good for you. A waiter settled a tray of drinks on the table. “Did you organise that little surprise I mentioned earlier?” Blaise asked the waiter.

         “Yes, Sir. Everything is in hand,” the waiter reassured, and turned to leave. Draco blanched. The waiter’s trousers were cheek-less and his pale ass protruded through the large holes.

         Noticing Draco’s reaction Blaise cackled. “You innocent. You’re going to learn so much tonight.”

         “I’m not an innocent,” Draco snapped, but pulled at his silk tie, sliding the knot loose. It suddenly felt very stuffy in here.

 

         Blaise passed Draco a neat whiskey, himself already sipping from an iced vodka and tonic. Draco took a large gulp of the whiskey, the peaty flavour burning his tongue.

         “How did they know my whiskey preference?”

         “It’s their job to know _everything_ about a client’s needs. Now stop asking questions. _They’re here._ ” Draco followed Blaise’s gaze which was almost hypnotically fixed straight ahead at one of the stages.

         Draco looked up. Two young women had walked on. The first was a willowy red-head, wearing a tight corset and thigh high slip on boots. Draco noticed that she had a thick riding crop strapped on to one of the boots. The second woman was a brunette. Her hair was pulled back in a low bun, exposing a heavy collar which curled round her slender neck. As she turned, Draco saw that the collar had a moulded handle attached to the back. On her wrists were leather cuffs, studded with metal bolds and rings. She wore a matched set of white lingerie, just a simple lace bra and sheer panties, which contrasted with the utilitarian styled leather cuffs.

         “I knew you’d like her,” Blaise said out of the corner of his mouth.

         Draco dragged his eyes away from the woman and glared at his friend. “I’m not sleeping with a hooker Blaise, no matter how shit my day has been.”

         “She’s not a hooker. She’ll only sleep with you if she wants too. I just happened to have already asked if she would be interested in introducing you to certain _things_.”

         Draco groaned, he dreaded what Blaise meant by ‘things’. A horrid thought suddenly occurred to him. “Blaise, have you slept with her?”

         “No mate. She doesn’t provide the domineering assistance I need,” Blaise reassured. “I have a regular appointment with her friend.” He gestured his glass to the slender red-head. 

         _Thank god_ , Draco thought, _that would have frankly been too close for comfort._

         “Ladies,” Blaise greeted, rising and helping the red-head down off the planform. Draco quickly followed suit and offered his hand to the brunette. Her hand slipped into his, her palm soft and small compared his large hands.

         “Thank you,” she said. Her voice was silky and low, with a musical lilt. And just the sound of her husky tone made Draco’s pants tighten.

         “Ladies,” Blaise repeated, pointing at him with his free hand, “this is Draco. And Draco, this is Ginny,” he gestured to the auburn girl, then the brunette Draco held, “and Hermione.”

         “Hermione,” Draco acknowledged, liking how the name rolled over his tongue.

         She offered him a polite, but indifferent smile. However, when he looked into her brown eyes, he saw they were shining. _This girl liked him_ , he realised. And this realization made him want to simultaneously ask for her number and thump his chest like some idiotic gorilla.

         The other girl, Ginny, settled Blaise’s hand on her waist, her movements ridged and precise. Draco observed that Blaise didn’t move his hand one centimetre after she’d arranged it.

         “What do you think Hermione, can you see some potential?” Blaise asked the brunette, talking about Draco as if he was a horse being put up for stud.

         Hermione’s gaze hovered over his suit clad body like a connoisseur. She seemed to be taking in his short blond hair, broad shoulders and well-formed hands. Her clever eyes did not miss the growing bulge in his slacks. Draco had to resist the urge to rearrange himself.

         “For a novice, he is acceptable,” she blankly stated.

         _Acceptable_! He was affronted. He had never been described as just _acceptable._ Malfoy men were nothing but the best. But she, Hermione, glanced at him again, and he saw the twinkle of excitement in her eyes. Chocolate brown, he decided, warm with a bitter undertone. He made up his mind: he wanted this girl, and in whatever way she’d have him.

_“_ I think you two will get along splendidly,” Blaise commented, noticing Draco’s sour expression. “May I move?” Blaise cordially asked Ginny. She nodded in the affirmative. Blaise pulled Draco to the side and quietly spoke, “I’ve booked you a newbie room-”

         “What do you mean a ‘newbie room’?”

         “A beginner’s room,” Blaise elaborated. “I didn’t think you’d be able to get your rocks off if there were strap on dildos and butt plugs lying everywhere.”

         Draco grimaced. “Good call.”

         “My treat. Metaphorically that is.”

         Draco grinned at him. “Don’t worry friend. I will not be thinking about _you_ this evening.”

         “Shut up, Malfoy.”

         “Blaise?” Ginny interrupted in clipped tones.

         “Good luck,” Blaise called back, as he was marched away by Ginny.

         That just left Draco with Hermione.

         “Would you follow me?” she inquired, tilting her head and examining him like he was a new, exotic animal in a zoo.

         “Sure.” He loosened his tie once more.

        

         She led him away from the platforms, past the bar and to a small door at the back of the room. Beyond this door was a cream coloured lounge. It was decorated like a typical sitting room. A plush set of sofas, a soft white carpet and a few artsy photograph books on the low coffee table. Nothing to indicate that it wasn’t the front sitting room of a someone’s home.

         _Accept_ , Draco wryly thought, _for a large curved hook implanted in the ceiling_.

         “There are a few formalities to go over before we begin,” Hermione calmly stated, collecting a stack of papers from the walnut coffee table. “Please sit.” She gestured to one of the sofas enclosing the central table.

         “What type of formalities?” Draco asked, suspicion aroused.

         Draco had not spent the past ten years as the director of his family’s company, Malfoy Industries, without picking up a certain amount of knowledge when dealing with formalities, contract clauses and business negotiations. In fact, the reason for him calling Blaise for this night out had been in light of an unsatisfactory event in the office today.

         For months, confidential information regarding Malfoy Industries had been filtering through to the competition. In the past month alone, three lucrative business deals had been snatched away from him, his competitors undercutting him at the last moment. However today, he’d discovered the source of the leak. His own personal assistant Marcus Flint had been feeding his enemies information. Firing and threatening Marcus with impending legal action had been gratifying, but the damage was done. It would take months of careful work to repair the harm. And now he didn’t even have a capable PA to help facilitate this recovery.

         Describing him as tense would be gross understatement.  

        

         “Confidentiality agreement,” Hermione explained, passing him two copies of a thin contract. “What happens tonight remains between us. It protects both of us from blackmail or later… embarrassment.” Draco could only guess at what she meant by embarrassment.

         He affably pulled a pair of thin reading glasses from the inside his jacket and scanned the document. “It says this contract only applies for tonight?” He referred to a specific point in the settlement.

         “This is a basic contract for one night. If we seek a more regular arrangement, then a more specific contract would be drawn up,” she continued, her hands gently rolling as she spoke. Draco silently nodded and went back to reading.

         “I see.” The light flashed off his glasses as he looked up at her. “The contract is adequate.” He pulled a bespoke fountain pen from his pocket, then signed and dated both copies. He passed both to her. His pulse speed up as he watched her initial the papers. For tonight, she was his. “What now?” he asked, rising from the sofa.

         “I know a place where we can go.”

 

As they walked along another dimly lit corridor, Draco checked out the petite woman in front of him. Hermione’s waist was curved and flushed into delightfully rounded hips. Her backside was pert and wiggled ever so slightly with each step she took on her long slim legs. And, to his embarrassment he failed to not drool. 

         She stopped outside a door with the number 6 embossed upon it. “Ready?” she asked, keeping her back to him

         “Yes.”

         She opened the door. The room looked like a normal hotel room. There were no chains, toys or anything in black leather. It was like the lounge they’d just left. The bedroom gave no indication to the type of activities that went on in this establishment.

         “This is not what I was expecting,” Draco commented, the relief clear in his voice. The normalcy of the room was unexpectedly soothing. The woman curved him a smile and opened a hidden space behind a perfect ordinary picture, revealing a compartment filled with a small assortment of toys. “Oh?”

         She took out long strap with a leather ball attached in the middle. “This is a ball gag,” she said, holding it up for him to see. “If you wish, I will not be able to speak.”

         Draco stiffened, “No I don’t think that will be necessary.” He didn’t want to inhibit her moaning his name.

         “Or,” she said, taking out a pair of clips attached by a thin chain, “these are nipple clamps. These-”

         “I can guess what _they_ do.”

         He was beginning to regret his haste in just going along with this. _Damn._ He was completely out of his depth and did not like the feeling at all. Normally, he was the one who held all the cards. He was unused to relinquishing control, and it felt particulate irksome when he was being instructed by a slip of a girl with big brown eyes. Innocent eyes, large and fawn like. At least her mouth was red and wicked.

         Hermione, as if sensing his discomfort, put the unsuited toys away and produced a long thin plank. “This,” she calmly said, holding up the piece of wood up for him to inspect, “is a paddle.” She moved towards him and took his hand. Placing the paddled handle in his palm she closed his finger’s over the smooth wood. “Is this appropriate?”

         He gripped the paddle. He swung it, getting a feeling for its light, but unwavering, weight. Then, he felt himself getting harder.

         “Do you wish to be undressed, Sir?” Hermione asked, her tone irritatingly respectful.

         “If you wouldn’t mind.”

         “Of course, Sir.”

         Her fingers slipped under the lapels of his jacket, sliding the expensive material off his shoulders. Her fingers brushed over his tie, and she pulled out the knot. The material made a slithering sound in her hand. Next, she unbuttoned his shirt, her finger’s deftly snapping over the buttons. Draco noticed that when revealing his toned chest, she was careful not to touch him. _God_ , he wished she would touch him. Just one stroke of her hot hand was going to send him over the edge.

         Draco held his breath as she went on her knees and undid his shoes. Her head was so close to his rapidly burgeoning erection, that he was afraid he might poke her in the eye. Pulling off his shoes she moved onto his belt. She dropped his slacks over his hips and down his legs.

         “Do you wish me to remove these too, Sir?” She asked, nodding to his boxers.

         He swallowed. “Yes.”

         She pulled his boxers down and his cock sprung free.

        

         Draco could have cried out with the sheer disappointment when she ignored his erection and stood up. She swiftly went to the wardrobe and pulled out a hanger, precisely placed his clothes on it.

         Except the belt, which she kept.

         “May we use this later?” she asked.

         “Sure,” he managed.

         She smiled at him, her rosy lips blooming like a flower.

        

         He was just standing there, starkers and holding a stupid wooden paddle, all while this beautiful woman waited for him to do something. _Anything_.

         He cleared his throat. He was used to directing people, surely, he could muster up enough control to dominate now? “Come here,” he said, trying to make his voice sound as firm as his cock felt.

         She obeyed and stood, waiting, in front of him.

         _What did he do now?_

         “Do you wish me to remove my underwear?” Her voice was layered with an innocence that he was sure was contrived.

         “Yes. Do it.”

         Her hands reached round and unclasped her bra, releasing her breasts. They were plump and pale, and her nipples were already pink peaks. He didn’t have long to look though, because she soon bent over and shimmied out of her panties. Straightening, she looked at him expectantly.

         She was the closest thing he’d ever seen to a goddess, and he wanted to sanctify every inch of her. With his tongue.

         Her figure was rounded and acutely feminine, with a silhouette that reminding him of the classical Greek statues of luscious wood nymphs. Her breasts were pert, her stomach smooth with a hint of a rounded belly, and further down was that soft triangle of her sex.

         “Very nice,” Draco said, wincing at the lameness of his compliment.

         She blinked a few times in response to his god-awful flirting. Then she bit her lip, and – no, he wasn’t mistaken – she was trying to hold back a giggle. Well, he couldn’t have that. No woman was going to be laughing while he was standing naked, his cock straining like a Sargent Major on parade day.

         “On your knees,” Draco said, his voice icy. Her eyes glittered, and she quickly sank to the floor. “Take me in your mouth.” She closed her round lips over the head of his cock and looked up at him, expectantly. _Fuck_ , she needed him to describe everything he wanted. “Suck,” he ordered.

         She enthusiastically complied. She took him further into her mouth, licking his shaft as she went. The head of his cock pushed against the back of her throat and then, she began to suck him, back and forth into her mouth. Draco groaned, the sight of her on her knees sucking his cock was incredibly arousing.

         “Put your hands on me,” he directed, his voice strained.

         She grasped the base of his shaft with one hand and clasped his backside with her other hand, giving her better purchase to suck. Draco wove his hands through her hair, fisting handfuls and making her take more of him in.

         Her head was frantically bobbing now, as she increased her pace. Draco could feel the familiar tightening sensation in his balls, he was getting so close. He pulled her mouth off him, just a gentle tug at her hair.

         She looked up at him, her plump lips still parted, and her mouth wet from his juiced. She lazily pumped his cock. A slow rhythm, but with each pump her grip tightened, until, with a yell he came, spilling his load over her face and breasts.

         Although having just come, he could feel his arousal building again as he saw his seed on her pale skin.

         “May I stand?” she said.

         He nodded, not able to articulate sentences yet.

 

         She rose but did not move away from him. She just stood there, her skin flushed pink.

         Draco needed her. He needed to know she was real, and not some tormenting dream. Blindly reaching for her, he kissed her. She was so warm and wet under his mouth, and he could taste his own arousal on her tongue as he thrust into her mouth. Her breath hitched but she remained still, her lips unmoving under his.

         He broke the kiss. He was puzzled by her unresponsiveness, and he realized what the problem was.

         “You may kiss me back,” he said, and immediately pressed his mouth to hers again.

         This time, her mouth opened easily. Her body went alive under his kisses and hands. She arched into him as she ran her tongue along his. He possessively slipped his hands over her back and cupped her ass. The paddle was still in his hand, and it accidentally patted her cheeks. The effect was instantaneous, as Hermione writhed with pleasure from the contact.

         Draco stopped. He looked at her flushed face, noticing the dusting of freckles over her straight nose. It was like someone had sprinkled gold powder on her face, a precise placement of the dots which he wanted to trace with his finger.

         “Go to the bed,” he said. She meekly went and stood by the bed. “Hold the footboard. Show me what I’m working with.” She took hold of the beds plush covered footboard, bending over and arching her back. Draco settle behind her, his hands running over the smooth curves of her backside. “Don’t move.”

         He lightly smacked her with the paddle. Draco enjoyed the feel of the paddle hitting her flesh, and the sight of her pert ass jiggling with the force.

         She moaned.

         He did it a few more times, keeping his slaps light.

         She started to pant, the small of her waist noticeably heaving.

         This time he put more force behind his hit. And Hermione gasped.

         He started to slap her cheeks alternately. His cock twitched when he noticed the growing redness of her skin. Her legs began to quiver and with each breath she moaned with pleasure, until suddenly she gave a loud cry of ecstasy.

         Draco dropped the paddle and slipped his hands over her heated cheeks and between her legs. She was dripping, and so warm. He found her entrance and slipped a finger inside of her, and then another.

         Hermione groaned, as he started to pump his finger in and out of her. With his other hand he searched for her clit and started rubbing the engorged nub. She rocked her hips back and forth, her ass grinding into his erection. Her inner walls clenched and spasmed. She became even more wet and slippery.

         He stopped touching her and moved his hands to encircle her slim waist. “I want you to be screaming my name.” His voice was harsh and breathless. “Do you understand?” She nodded, her hair coming loose from her bun. “Say you understand,” Draco demanded, tightening his grip.

         “Yes,” she panted. “I understand.”

         He pulled her body higher, so she was standing on her tiptoes. He positioned his cock at her slick entrance and slid in. Her body clenched around his girth. Pausing, he took a firmer hold of her and pushed himself further in.

          “Oh,” she sighed.

         He started slowly thrusting, angling so he was brushing against _that_ spot inside her.

         “Fuck,” he whispered, as her muscles tightened harder around him.

 

         She started to lowly moan, her breath catching with each thrust.

         Draco removed a hand from her waist and grabbed hold of the moulded handle attached to the back of her thick collar. Her body pulled up and her spine to curled. Keeping hold of the handle, he lifted his other hand to palm her breast and his fingers carelessly pinching her nipple.

         He was roughly thrusting now, seeking his own climax.

         “Say my name,” he growled. His hips slapped her raw backside.

         “Draco. Draco,” she softly chanted.

         “Again.”

         “Draco!” She finally screamed, her body going limp around his cock.

         He clasped her to him, and deeply stroked her insides. He gave a grunt, squeezed her breast hard and came into her tight pussy.

 

         It took Draco a minute to recover from his climax: it had been so intense. Hermione was breathing heavily, each inhalation wracking her body. He was still holding her collar, keeping her body in that awkward angle. He slowly released his grip and slid his hands down her body.

         He looked down at the forgotten paddle on the carpet.

         “May I move?” Hermione asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

         “Yes, of course,” Draco said. Now that he’d stated his lust he wasn’t quite sure how this situation should go.

         Hermione let her body fall out of the pose, her back straightened and she rolled her shoulders trying to get some feeling back into them.

         “Would Sir, like me to fetch him a towel?”

         Draco nodded. He felt sweaty and sticky from sex.

         “Do you want me to clean myself off?” she said.

         He looked at her, her chest and torso were slick with sweat and his juices from earlier. Her hair had completely unwoven from her bun, rippling down her back and across her shoulders. Her face was rosily flushed and her temples damp from their exertion.

         “You may.”

         She walked off towards what he presumed was the bathroom. He was satisfied to notice that her walk was not as graceful after their intercourse. Bet she didn’t think he was just _acceptable_ now.

         She came back, holding a fluffy white towel over her arm. She’d wiped herself down in the bathroom and her hair was fixed back into a low bun. _A dishevelled looking bun_ , Draco thought, _but still a bun_.

         She wordlessly handed him the towel and he rubbed it over his damp hair and face.

         Noticing that she still stood beside him, he asked, “Is there a phrase similar to ‘at ease’ for the dominant party to say to the submissive?”

         “If you desired so. You could tell me to do as I wished?” she suggested.

         “Then please, do what you wish.”

         She instantly walked over to the TV and opened the cabinet underneath which contained a minibar.

         “Drink?” she offered, holding out a bottle of water.

         “God, yes.” He accepted the chilled water gratefully.

         She lay across the bed and rested her head in the heel of her hand. She was gloriously naked, and her flushed skin seemed to glow in the low light. Draco copied her pose, although he doubted he looked as sensuously sexy lying there as she did.

         “What now?” he asked, unsure of how these types of encounters were supposed to go.

         “I’d say give you five minutes then you’ll be up for another round,” she said, slyly looking at his already hardening cock. “And perhaps this time,” she said, glancing at him through her eyelashes, “we could use the belt.”

         She was wrong, it didn’t take him five minutes to harden more like thirty seconds.

 

         Draco tightened his belt round her wrists, just above her leather cuffs. He’d had to wrap the belt round her delicate skin a few times, but it was finally secure. She tested his handy work and tried to wiggle out of the bondage.

         “You’re a natural,” she praised after she’d finished checking the bond. “Where would you like me?”

         Draco’s eyes flitted around the room and settled on the bed. The traditional way had never failed him before. “On the bed.”

         As she shuffled back onto the bed, her breasts bouncing distractingly. Draco groaned, she was taking far too long. Quickly, he lifted her up and hoisted her across the white sheets, settling her into the pillows. He lifted her bound hands and slipped them over the conveniently placed hook on the headboard.

         She smirked up at him. “What are you going to do with me now?”

         Draco literally growled. _How could she get under his skin so easily_?

         Leaving her positioned on the bed, he collected his silk tie from where she’d hung it. Slipping it round the back of her head he tied it, firmly, over her mouth. She opened her mouth and took the material between her sharp white teeth. Apart from her pleasurable moans, she wouldn’t be able to make a sound.

         He wondered if a blindfold might make this picture complete. He opened the secret stash of toys, hidden behind the frame. Leather, chains and bits that jiggle met his eyes. His scanned the toys, trying to work out what might be a good blind fold when a large purple vibrator caught his eye.

         He showed her his prize and was delighted to see her eye widen with excitement.                   She looked perfect, splayed out on the sheets, her hair once again mussed, and her pink mouth closed around his tie.

 

         Draco lay next to Hermione and pushed her legs apart, allowing his eyes to linger on her glistening folds. He pressed the heart shaped button on the dildo and it began to vibrate with a quiet buzz, like a solitary bee. He clicked it a few more times, until the buzzing sounded like a swarm. He slowly ran the vibrator up her leg and across her thighs, letting the movement race across her body.

         She squirmed against the belt, as he touched the vibrator next to her sex. Making sure he never made contact with her opening, he circled the vibrator round and occasionally caught her clit.

         He gave a smirk as her hips started to buck. With his free hand he gripped his cock, smoothing his palm over his shaft. He enjoyed the way Hermione’s eyes followed his movements, her visibly pupils dilating and her chest flushed with anticipation.

         Draco pushed the vibrator’s head against her bud. She jerked at the contact and moaned into his tie. He began to press and then remove the buzzing vibrator. He tightened his pressure on his cock, and she ground her hips trying to get more of his ministrations. He could feel his desire building and he stopped, not wanting to come too soon. He loosened the knotted tie freeing her mouth.

         “What do you want Hermione?” he asked, rolling the vibrator over her clit again.

         “You,” she whined, her arms tense as she struggled to loosen her bonds.

         “What do you want me to do?” He smirked, watching her teeth bit at her perfect lips.

         “Inside me, please.”

         He slowly slipped the vibrating rod into her. The effect was immediate. She cried out, her sounds no longer muffled by the cloth. She arched her back, pressing her hips closer to his hand and the vibrator. Draco couldn’t wait any longer. Pulling the vibrator out of her, he threw it across the bed. It fell onto the floor with a thump, and he could hear a resonating buzzing as it rolled on the carpet.

         He shifted, lowering himself between her open thighs. Her legs quickly wrapped around his waist, her calf muscles squeezed and urged him forward. Bracing one of his hands on the headboard, he sunk into her warmth. They both sighed as they joined together once more. He grasped the back of her leg and purchased his palms on her flesh, allowing him to press her leg up and his cock to slip into a different angle in her.

         It worked. She gasped his name.

         Draco gave her a few more deep, lingering thrust before he pulled out. He smiled, as the loss of contact caused her to whimper. He slipped her bound hands off the hook and placed them over his neck, forcing her to straddle him. Slowly, he lowered his back onto the bed, her hands just under his neck. The caused her to kneel over his hips and her breasts to press against his chest.

         “Fuck me Hermione,” he commanded and gave her ass a quick slap.

         She moved her hips, allowing her to take his cock back inside her. Her thighs tensed, and she started to rock. With each gyration, her tits swung, and her sensitive nipples brushed over his firm chest. He thrust his hips upwards, each movement meeting her own downward grind. Her body was beginning to tremble, her impending climax starting to roll in waves of pleasure.

         “Draco, I’m- I’m going to come.”

         “Come for me,” he whispered, increasing the jerking of his groin to try and drive her over the edge. His own orgasm was riding ever closer.

         She was panting into his neck, her face pressed against his ear. He heard her breath sputter and her long low moan as her climax rocked though her frame. Her muscles clenched his cock, milking him in her wet warmth.

         She collapsed against his chest, her soft hair tickling his nose. He was still hard and pulsing inside her. He brushed his hands across the side of her breasts and down to her hips. Taking hold of her hips he shifter her, and her inner channel caressing his cock. Suddenly he pulled her down, hard, against his pelvis. Then again, and again, until he was mimicking her early rocking movements.

         The feel of her tits on his chest, her cool breaths caressing the side of his neck, the weight of her body as she took him deeper and deeper inside of her; Draco’s spine stiffened, and he yelled, coming harden enough that he saw stars.

        

Draco lounged on the bed and watched Hermione. She was trying to find the discarded vibrator. The sound of it still buzzed, the battery not diminished.

         “Any luck?” he asked and slipped off the bed.

         “No,” she quickly replied, looking under the coffee table and around the plush chairs.

         “I think it might be under the bed.” He made no move to retrieve it.

         “I’ll get it then,” she said. He smirked at her annoyed tone. Getting on all fours she stuck her head under the bed. Draco walked round, admiring the view of Hermione on her hands and knees. “Got it.”

         “Well done,” he drawled. He bend and slipped a hand under her chin, pressing his mouth to hers. She leaned into the kiss, letting her lips mould with his. He tried to put how he felt in that kiss. The sheer pleasure of the night, the contented glow he now felt, and how amazing she was.

         She broke the kiss. “I have to go,” she apologetically said. “I start a new job in the morning.”

         “What do you do?” he asked, genuinely curious. “Apart from this, that is?”

         “Nah, I can’t tell you that.” She wryly smiled at him. “It goes against tonight’s contract.”

         “Will I see you again?” The words left Draco’s mouth in a tumble. He inwardly winced. _Could he sound more desperate_?

         “You will,” she reassured. “In fact, it might be sooner than you expect.”

         _That time could not come soon enough_ , Draco thought.

         She grabbed one of the hotel-style fluffy towel robes. Draco took it from her and helped her put the thick robe on. “Thank you,” she said and tied the robe securely round her waist. “Goodbye Draco, till we meet again.” And she left.

         Draco’s fingers lingered on the door handle, wondering if he should run after her. _Had he really let this incredible woman just stroll out of his life_?

         _No,_ he decided. He was Draco fucking Malfoy and when Malfoy’s wanted something, they got it. Now, all he needed to find out was her full name.

 

         That morning, Draco strode into his office. He was wearing a sharp navy-blue suit, cream shirt and dark blue tie with a white polka dot pattern. Marcus’s desk was empty, void of all personal belongings or human touches. Fortunately, he’d asked Mrs Sprout, the companies head secretary, to find him a replacement PA for nine o‘clock this morning.

         He sunk into his leather office chair he checked his watch. It was two minutes to nine.

         There was a knock on the door.

         “Come,” Draco said and stood to greet whoever had knocked.

         It was Mrs Sprout, but she was talking to someone behind her. A young woman followed Mrs Sprout into his office. A young woman with brown hair pulled into a low bun.

         _Fuck._

Hermione waked into his office, smiling at Mrs Sprout’s chatter.

         “Ah, Mr Malfoy, here is your new personal assistant,” Mrs Sprout said. “What did you say your name was again, dear?” she asked, turning to Hermione.

         “Hello, I’m Miss Granger, Hermione Granger,” her smile broadened. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Sir.”

         Draco just knew that he was going to have an employee misconduct case on his hands, because he was certainly going to be sexually teasing Miss Granger within the hour.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is only a snippet of some of the BDSM world and practices, and should not be taken as an historic account. 
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter


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